


Without You

by ShadowHaloedAngel



Series: Tenshi [5]
Category: Jrock
Genre: Inspired by Music, M/M, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHaloedAngel/pseuds/ShadowHaloedAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although his music binds together people all over the world, Yoshiki had never dreamed it would bring him closer to the one who waited at home...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without You

He had been away too long, and such things always took their toll. The memories carried their own weight, heavy on his shoulders, and ghosts of memory haunted him through exhaustion, even as he forced himself on. Though it was over now, he didn't want to return home, didn't want to face the empty, hollow luxury and echoing space. He was already empty, completely spent, and so he had retreated elsewhere, to his secret haven.

He didn't even knock, knowing it didn't matter, that he was always welcome, whether announced or not, and regardless of the hour. That had been made clear repeatedly, and he was always infinitely grateful for it. The strains of music drifting through the house were faint, but it hardly took him an instant to place it, and his lips curved slightly in a sad smile. He knew Akito missed him, and that sometimes he listened to his music when they were apart, though never when Yoshiki was there. Yoshiki wouldn't have known at all if he hadn't caught the man out once, and he still remembered the way Akito had refused to meet his gaze while he explained, until Yoshiki had pulled him into an embrace, rendering words superfluous again. He wondered idly which was Akito's favourite song as he followed the distant strains, until he was thrown completely by a wrong note, a slip and the sudden cessation of sound. What on /earth/?! There were no recordings where he had messed up like that, and although he was by no means perfect, such a harsh break in the melody was... unsettling.

It started up again, though, hesitant, and he frowned - it sounded live, like someone was attempting to learn it, to play it, but... Akito was a singer, if he was anything. He viewed it as a hobby, had no desire to take it further, make it professional, but he was a singer. Did that mean that someone else was playing the piano? Some niece or cousin? Akito had no siblings, Yoshiki knew that much at least. Surely it wouldn't be, couldn't be another lover... alright, he was here unexpectedly, but Akito would never betray him like that... Yoshiki's stomach turned over, and his heart grew heavy, expecting the worst. His feet felt like they were encased in clay as he abandoned the small suitcase, the handle falling easily from his limp grasp, and he continued down the hall, drawn by the siren song of black and white.

Even when he reached the door to the room from whence the music flowed, he paused for a snatched breath before he found the courage to open it, and the sight which confronted him made him freeze once more before he melted in place.

The sharp click of the door opening made the erstwhile pianist slip once more, his head jerking round, ready to attempt an excuse, or some kind of explanation. Hearts stopped, breath caught, and still their gazes were locked for a timeless moment before the secret musician stood and began, slowly at first, but with increasing haste, to approach the drummer silhouetted in the doorway.

Before either man could breathe again, Yoshiki was safe in familiar arms as Akito pulled him close and hands strayed as if checking he was real, that he was safe and unharmed. There was no speech, there never was, only silent communication, the brushing of hands and lips, inspection and affection. A heartfelt welcome home. 

It was a long moment again before the silence was finally broken, and this time it was Yoshiki who broke it, even as he stepped back to once more take the sight of his lover in.

"I didn't know you played..." there was no accusation in his tone, but one glance into the amber eyes revealed his confusion. He was almost hurt at Akito's omission to mention something which was so personal, which had the potential to bind them closer still, but he would wait to pass judgement until Akito had had the chance to justify himself.

As so often, his first words were an apology, but Yoshiki knew that when Akito apologised, it was sincere, that his lover was in turn hurt by the idea of having caused him pain. It was a new experience entirely, but one he welcomed, one he was grateful for.

"I'm sorry..." the brief flash of pain in those beautifully warm eyes as Akito dropped his gaze in guilt. "I should have told you, I suppose... but I never meant for you to discover that I played. The singing I could share with you, because it tied us together with music, but the piano... she is your mistress, Yoshiki. We both know that, and you in turn are her favourite son, for all that she is sometimes cruel. I am blessed to have you here tenshi, to share with you everything we share, and yet I could not face the scorn I feared from the comparison of my mean talent to your gift. The scorn I know in my heart would not be yours, but the comparison is unavoidable, and my own heart betrays me tenshi, whispering to me of disappointment, of anger even at my clumsy destruction of something so beautiful. It is only that sometimes when you are away for so long I dream of you. I see you here, at this piano, and I hear your songs in my mind, over and over, but... the recordings aren't enough..."

Yoshiki was speechless, and before he could begin to process a reply he instinctively drew Akito close once more, strangely unfazed by the reversal of their more usual roles, offering comfort in turn now. 

"Akito..." he stepped back slightly after a moment, and shook his head, tears gleaming in his own tawny eyes now.

"I... am touched... that someone finds something enough in my music to wish to learn it, that it can offer you slight comfort at all... you undervalue yourself, as you so often do though, my love, and it hurts me when you say such cruel things to yourself... you were doing so well, and it lifted my heart to hear... it makes me smile to know that you like my music enough to listen to the recordings when I am not here, it's sweet, and it humbles me that I have been able to create something which can help you when I am away, which can remind you of me. To imagine that you not only listen to it, but are actually learning it... renders me speechless... would you..." it was Yoshiki's gaze which dropped now, his speech which became hesitant as he made the tentative overture, "would you perhaps... allow me to teach you?" he bit his lip - the return of the nervous tic which Akito found so endearing. One of the few signs of his vulnerability which Yoshiki never managed to completely conceal.

Akito only stared for a long moment, as if he hadn't heard Yoshiki properly, and the blonde dropped his gaze away, attempting now to avoid the retribution for what had been a foolish suggestion, a selfish hope. His distracted attention, though, meant that he jumped when Akito took his hands and pulled him close once more, whispering a heartfelt "Please..."

Yoshiki hesitated before he again met Akito's gaze, and offered him the smallest of smiles, his own gratitude shining in his eyes. Though he was physically exhausted from the marathon of touring, the two men moved to the piano stool, sitting close, and were lost once more to the world, in the music and each other.


End file.
